I am making a list of what I need to eat while in Paris.
Macaron.
I must have a macaron or the Paris Breakfasts blogger AND Rick Steves might hunt me down. (Oh, and lately Rick Steves is referred to with any random two first names. “So, what does Mike James say … Ed Brians … George Jeffs?”) I shall have a chocolate one AND the strangest flavor I can find. If they still make the cactus I shall have that. I shall eat these at Laduree which seems to be right around the corner.
On Sunday or Monday (evidently the day off for the choclateirs and patisseries) I shall eat cheese.
Virgin Baby Cheese.
I want cheese that is illegal in all 50 states. Young unpasteurized cheese. (I have been learning the rules. The rules are that the only way you can get unpasteurized cheese in the US is if it has aged 60 days.)
We went to The Smokehouse in Chesterfield (the name lies – it’s a gourmet food store) and I asked for the youngest cheese they had. When I added “unpasteurized,” the man helping me nodded as if to say “ah, you speak cheese.” He said, “You need the cheese card.” The Cheese Card tells you which of their cheeses are raw milk, goat, sheep, and so on.
I got these unpasteurized cheeses:
Pyrénées Ossau-Iraty – It’s been aged 90 days, but still it’s unpasteurized AND it’s from a ewe. Hands down the tastiest cheese. Gary and I BOTH liked it best.
Gruyère de Comté – Aged a year. It was okay. I need to keep this for Gruyere potatoes. Or I need to track down Comte Reserve de Chalet. It seems what I tried today was low-grade Gruyere (12-15 points) when the best is a 20-point Comte.
And these pasteurized cheeses:
Doux De Montagne – Aged, Pasteurized, from a cow, yawn. Ennui. But very smooth. I think Gary grabbed this one.
Fromage D’Affinois – again. I got this at Provisions last Monday. It was the one that tasted like salted butter with a slight hint of cheese. The one I got today at Smokehouse tasted the same , only if it had marinated in the essence of cheese a minute longer.
And, with the cheese, I shall eat…
Bread.
René-Gérard de St-Ouen – PLEASE. Supposedly one the the best bakeries but they make the bread into CAT SHAPES. AND THEN YOU EAT IT. It’s like eating a bread Easter Bunny. It’s like a pancake house that made every pancake LOOK LIKE A TURTLE. Evidently they make other shapes besides cats. Perhaps a squirrel? I could drown his leettle head in fromage and then bite it off.
Bertholin Ice Cream.
Berthillon ice cream brags its ice cream is made of milk, cream, sugar and eggs. Eggs. Of course in St. Louis we call that Frozen Custard, but okay, when in France. I will report back if it’s better than Ted Drewes.
What I Probably Won’t Eat:
I know, it’s Paris and probably my only chance to eat a multi-star meal, but I doubt I would appreciate it. Lately I’ve been enjoying things like tomatoey-tasting tomatoes, cheesey-tasting cheese, and a sea bass with a cilantro pesto and a Chadonnay reduction would be wasted on me. However, in our hotel there is a three-Michelin-star chef presiding over a one-star restaurant. If they serve Eggs Benedict I will go there at least once.
12 responses to “Like Eat, Pray, Love. Only Without Any Praying. And the Loving Isn’t That Big a Deal Either.”
When we were in Austria/Italy/Germany/Switzerland we called him Dick Stevens. But that was only after we got mad at him for his crappy maps in Milan.
Anyway, glad to see someone else thinks his name is silly. I mean really. Rick Steves?
And Becs will hunt you down, too, if you don’t have as many macarons as possible. The only place I can get them is at La Maison du Chocolat in NYC or the Culinary Institute in Hyde Park, NY.
I am drooling at the thought of Paris. Can you pack me in your suitcase?
Better than Steve Ricks, at least.Best post title ever. Well, in the last month at least.
Oh la la, those patisserie window displays. Go inside. Mille feuilles! (meal fooey) – layers of delicate flakey pastry with sweet custard filling and vanilla icing! Palmiers – more sweet pastry, crunchy, in the shape of a playing-card spade. A religieuse – fat double-decker chocolate eclair full of cream: coffee icing even better. Elsewhere, have a croque monsieur – cheese toasted sandwich. Croque Madame – same, with an egg!
I have a friend with two first names, and he is a perfectly decent human being.So here’s some clod talk about Paris. I like the breakfast of a small baguette with butter and jam and cafe au lait.I like the baguette sandwiches of baguette with butter and salami. I like the baguette sandwiches with butter and camembert.I like mussels and unlimited fries at chain Belgian restaurants. If you can find a chain Alsatian restaurant, have the “Teller” of various pork meats over sauerkraut. To die for.Then there’s the “Hippo,” which is standard and dependable.End of clod talk.
Erin – Mainly it’s hard to remember.Becs – Okay! Just hope that macarons plus any souffles don’t cause a raw egg-white allergy reaction.magpie – Sadly, no, besides then you’d die in the hold.Allison – I just saw Julia Roberts, not in E,P,L, but in Duplicity. Fun movie, but I have never seen her photographed so poorly.Big Dot – Religieuse? Hello! Baby cream ouff on top of Mamma Creampuff.Hattie – I am also a clod. I have heard good things of the Hippo, but god knows Gary the German would love a pork grill over saurkraut!
Please have Berthillon ice cream on my behalf. Lots and lots and lots of it.
Catherine -I will. I have to figure out how to say “Chocolate Walnut.”
Chocolate aux noix.
Il n’y a pas de quoi.
“Noisettes” is also deliciously important.
Tami – Do you mean hazelnuts or the Rock band?
Never heard of the rock band, but I can’t dismiss them as unimportant just because of that.